


To Those Who Bleed

by FramedCuriosity



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: But he's trying, Gen, I tried tho, Not Beta Read, Team Bonding, Team as Family, The team gets to know Thor, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, or at least tries to, tony is a bit of a jerk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:16:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27444748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FramedCuriosity/pseuds/FramedCuriosity
Summary: It takes time for a group of heroes to become a team, especially when one of them is constantly flying off to space.
Relationships: Thor & Avengers Team, Thor & Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	To Those Who Bleed

**Author's Note:**

> So I started this after I first watched Endgame and I really needed some Phase 1 everyone is alive team bonding. I recently found it again and quickly finished it. I'm not a big fan of the ending, but I don't feel like working on it any more. But I do hope you enjoy it.

Today was a bad one, and Tony was sure he would bury it deep down where all the other blood covered sights were. And there had been so much of it--the blood. And oh the children. He couldn’t think about that; he wouldn’t. And he was sure none of the others would either, and he knew they would never talk about it. Instead they sat in silence, none wishing to stay, but refusing to leave. Even the hardened spies seemed to be having trouble coping-- except Thor, he seemed fine. He was off doing God knows what in the kitchen, but Tony should know what he was doing, he did it every time they returned from a hard mission. At least the ones he had been earthside for; whenever he wasn’t off in space--doing space stuff, or whatever. 

Thor would always make sure they got back, leading the dazed captain, and nudging the repressing spies. He would make sure Bruce had his change of clothes, and would always ask Jarvis for Tony’s vital signs. Then when they were all sitting in the common room he would go to the kitchen and before they all knew, he would return with a tray full of their favorite comfort drinks. For Steve it was black coffee, strong and bitter, it reminded him of different times; maybe not better times, but familiar. For Natasha, Thor brought hot chocolate brimming with marshmallows, Tony never would have guessed that was the spies favorite (non-alcoholic) drink, but it seemed that Point Break had got it right; especially when the widow would practically melt after the first sip. For Bruce it was tea, warm and soothing, and surprisingly, it was Barton's preferred drink too, go figure. And for Tony, who in all honesty would prefer a stiff drink, he would bring coffee that was really more milk and had way too much sugar to be healthy, but well, it seemed to hit the spot. Then for himself, well sometimes he would drink something-- almost as an afterthought, like perhaps he too should have something-- and sometimes he didn’t. Probably when he didn’t feel like pretending that he was joining them in their sorrow, and instead just waiting for them to be done with their weakness. It never really bothered Tony, he was actually quite grateful for it--someone had to function on this team-- but for whatever reason, right now, it was causing a coil of anger to form in Tony’s gut. Though in retrospect that anger was for other things, dark things, but he couldn't lash out at them; so instead he lashed out at something before him, and Thor was an easy target.

So as Tony watched him pass out the drinks and sit down empty handed himself, he took note of the dryness of the blue eyes and steady hands. And clenching his own trembling hands Tony looked at the watery distant eyes of the captain, and the tear tracks through the grime of the archer. He had seen the silent tears slowly release form Natasha and Bruce was just now silently crying. As for himself, he had never been more glad for the faceplate of his armor. But Thor, he was fine. And the anger curled up from his stomach to his chest. Was the asgardian so high and mighty, that the deaths of mere mortals didn’t touch him? Was it the same as watching insects die? A small voice in the back of Tony’s mind told him that those thoughts weren’t true, but it was a quiet voice, and the anger was oh so loud as it rushed up through his esophagus and spewed from his mouth.

“Do you even care,” his practically hissed statement brought all eyes to him.

Thor, who realized the words were meant for him, said, “Pardon?”

“Do you even care when one of us  _ mere mortals _ dies? Or is it only an inconvenience, as you wait for us lesser beings to mourn?” Thor did not get a chance to respond before Tony continued, “You don’t even have the decency to pretend to be sad!”

Silence echoed his last statement. Four shocked gazes and one confused look met him.

Thor, his brow furrowed, spoke at last, “And how is it that you would prefer I mourned, Stark?” 

“I don’t know, dammit! Cry or something!” Tony threw himself up and started pacing.

“You wish me to cry?”

“Yes! There were children ...Children! They deserve our tears at least. Your tears, too. It's the least we can do,” Tony all of a sudden felt tired, he found himself standing over Thor as he was scrutinized by the most ancient gaze he’d ever seen--It nearly took the breath from his lungs. Thor looked young. Everything about him screamed of boundless youth--his curiosity, his intensity, and his boisterous laugh. But now for the first time Tony saw beyond that, or for once was allowed to see beyond; he was looking through a door that always remained shut, and for whatever reason, it now lay open. And Tony did not like what he saw. On the other side was death and violence, and blood enough to drown them all twice over.

“You are right, they deserve more. But tell me, Stark--you who have great aversion to the thought of me as a greater being-- tell me, who am I to give more weight to one tragedy than another? Who am I to say one life should be mourned more so than the next? For if I weep for the children of Midgard, then so I must weep for the children of Alfheim, and of Vanaheim, and even those of Jotunheim,” Thor rose from his position on the couch, until he stood face to face with Tony, “But you wish for my tears, Stark. All right--you can have them,” he gestured toward the window, and where before the sun had shone, now rain seemed to be all that there was. 

“But if you wish me to weep for every tragedy,” Thor continued, “then I do not believe you have the lifetime to watch, nor this world the strength to withstand it.” 

And with that he nodded farewell to the wide eyed avengers, and left. Though Tony couldn’t help but notice that his eyes had remained dry--but it was a passing thought, and he was so tired. All the anger seemed drained from him, replaced now by guilt. He slowly sank down to his seat.

“Why did you say that?” Steve sounded just as tired as Tony felt.

“I don’t know,” And he didn’t. Something had built up from deep within him, something dark and coiling. Something that had been growing with each loss--with each life that slipped through his fingers. Then in his moment of weakness he had released it, and in it’s freedom it had latched on to the closest thing that could bleed.

“Damn, I guess I need to go apologize, don’t I?” Tony couldn't help resting his head on his clasped hands, it was just so heavy.

“I think he understands that you’re not exactly in your right mind at the moment,” the good Captain, always looking for the bright side, “None of us are,”

Outside, the rain kept on.

******

That night Thor got called away to Asgard. There were things he needed to handle; it was all he would say. And before anyone could ask any questions on the matter, he was gone--and so was the rain.

Tony had meant to talk to him, but well, he hadn’t. Not that he didn’t try, though it wasn’t exactly try--more like think about it. But really what was he supposed to say?  _ Hey, remember earlier when I called you a callous monster? Yeah sorry about that. _ Yeah, that wasn’t exactly going to cut it. Though if maybe Tony bought him something expensive, Thor would take that as an apology. It was really the best way Tony knew how to apologize. But what was expensive to the prince of, literally, another planet? Well maybe Captain Uptight would help him out, but for the moment, Tony had some very interesting experiments to conduct. And if he was lucky they would take all night--or the next three nights. Really, he’d rather not be sleeping right now.

Two days later they got called out again. Luckily it was nothing they would need their biggest guns for. Which caused Bruce great relief; a code green was never fun. Before he knew it, Tony was back in his lab with no new horror to contest with.

That's how the next few weeks went. The Avengers would occasionally get called out, but luckily no world ending disaster had occurred. And when they weren’t out fighting criminals, they each had their own things to keep them occupied. For living in the same building they hardly ever saw each other. All and all, life wasn’t too bad. Tony had even forgotten about the unfortunate incident with Thor ( he felt that had a better ring than  _ that time he was a jerk _ ).

Of course, nothing good can last. They were called out again. There were casualties. At least this time it wasn’t as bad as  _ that night,  _ but still, it was bad enough. And as they returned quiet and sullen, and sat in the common room as usual, Tony couldn’t help but feel that something was off. Something was missing.

“What do you think Thor is doing?” the voice was soft, like velvet.

Slowly all eyes turned to the Widow. That’s what it was! No guiding hands, no comfort drinks, no Thor.

Tony cursed. 

How could he forget the fact that maybe, oh you know, his teammate was missing! And just like that he remembered  _ that night _ . Though in order not to think on the bloody aspects of  _ that night _ , Tony instead focused on what happened after; it wasn’t something great to focus on, but well, it was better than... than. No! Tony would only think about how he owed a Norse god an apology, and that was it.

“How am I supposed to apologize to a space alien prince?” he said without preamble, and before anyone could voice their conjecture on what said space alien prince was doing.

“What,” Barton summarized all their looks with the one word.

“Well I was kinda a jerk before Thor left.”

“Oh right. You really were.”

“Thanks Legolas, I appreciate the support.” 

Tony merely got a shrug in response.

“Why don’t you just say sorry,” Bruce’s words were spoken softly, but Tony could still detect the ‘duh’ factor they had to them. He sent a glare Buce’s way.

“What if I just bought him something? What does he like?”

“I don’t know, poptarts?” Clint was all shrugs, wasn’t he?

“Tony, you can't just buy him something. It's so insincere,” 

“I don’t know Cap, what if I write sincerely at the end of a note attached to the expensive gift?” 

Cap rolled his eyes, “And what would this note say?”

Tony made a show of thinking, “How about, here you go, sincerely Tony.”

“Why would that not surprise me?” Cap said.

“But seriously, does no one know what Thor would like?” Tony dropped his teasing tone.

“Uh… food?” Clint guessed, earning himself a shove from Natasha.

“Ok, fine. Food. What kind of food?”

Clint opened his mouth to speak.

“And don’t you dare say poptarts,” Tony’s tone was annoyed.

Clint closed his mouth.

“Come on people! How can none of us know something Thor would like,” Tony was getting frustrated.

“It’s not that we don’t know what he likes,” Steve said, “It’s just that he likes everything.”

“That is true,” Bruce added, “ I haven’t seen him show any real dislike for anything.”

“And even if he did dislike something, I doubt he’d let anyone know. Thor is very diplomatic,” Of course it would be Natasha that picks up on something like that.

“Thor--Mr. I’d Rather Hit It--diplomatic?” to be honest, It did seem like a bit of a stretch to Tony.

“Think about it, He’s the prince of a planet and he’s practically making first contact. There is also the fact that his brother led an alien invasion against us. So yes, he’s walking on eggshells.”

“Eggshells? Really? He doesn’t exactly tiptoe around.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “You know what I mean. He’s always very careful about what he says, especially when talking about Asgard.”

Huh, Tony hadn’t noticed; not that he had asked about Asgard or...anything. In retrospect he couldn’t remember too many conversations with the Thunderer, but of course Natasha had.

“You asked about Asgard?” she nodded, “Well what did he say?”

All their attention was fully on Natasha; now that the subject was brought up, they were quite curious.

“Well when I asked what all he does as prince, he said his duties are many and he would usually much rather be hunting Bildshnipe, and then he told me all about where they can be found and how very loud they are. Then I asked what kind of training the warriors have, and I learned that they have different kinds and that it is enough to build up quite the appetite; which led to learning about how magnificent the feast on Asgard are.”

“So he answered everything without actually answering anything?” Steve said.

“Ok, so obviously, he’s been trained in maneuvering a conversation away from sensitive topics,” Clint was looking a bit impressed--in a nonchalant manner of course.

“So what? He doesn’t trust us enough to tell us about a planet we’ll most likely never see?” Tony didn’t know why that rubbed him the wrong way.

“I don’t think it’s just about trust,” Natasha responded, “He has a responsibility to protect his world, and divulging sensitive information to people he just practically met wouldn’t exactly be smart.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

But still, Tony couldn’t get rid of the feeling in his gut. A feeling caused by the thought that Thor maybe didn’t trust them. As for themselves, they had been able to build up a form of trust, but it had been formed through living in close proximity and going on many missions together, but Thor was off-world practically more than he was on. And he hadn’t exactly formed that comradery. Though he got along with all of them--some more than others--there was still an alienness around him. And Tony realized that for all he may not trust them, to an extent they didn’t exactly trust him either… except for Steve, he trusted all of them, and for whatever reason the two seemed to get along great. Though they did trust Thor to make sure they got taken care of after a hard mission--the ones where they were compromised, so there was that. And to be honest they were a group of people with trust issues, and allowing themselves to be vulnerable was kinda huge. 

So on second thought, they did trust Thor, but when had Thor himself ever been vulnerable around them? Never, that’s when. Tony could not recall a single instance when the god had let them see him as anything other than in full control of himself. 

The room had fallen into silence, all seeming to be bound by their thoughts.

“Sir, It seems Mr. Odinson has returned. He is in the elevator now,” the cultured voice of Jarvis jarred Tony out of his thoughts.

Speak of the devil.

The elevator dinged, and as if manifested by their word, out stepped Thor. He looked, well the same really. The same golden hair and red cape, and he was in his full armor--with the chainmail sleeves and everything. Though there was something different about him, Tony couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was off.

“Friends, are you all alright,” Thor said once he stepped off the elevator and spotted them sitting in the common room, he didn’t sound quite as boisterous as he usually did upon his returns.

“Yes Thor, we’re good, just a rough day,” Steve answered.

Thor nodded as if he already knew, and started to make his way toward the kitchen. 

“What about you Thor,” Natasha said.

“What about me?”

“Are you alright?”

Thor turned on the coffee pot, “Me? Of course. I am as you say, all good,” he smiled.

Natasha got up from her spot on the couch and walked over to the kitchen, “Don’t worry about the drinks, just go get a shower and get comfortable and then we can chat.”

“Shower? But why,” Thor looked as if he’d never heard the word.

“Because you stink of sweat,” Natasha paused her search for mugs and looked at him,“don’t argue, just go.”

“As you wish, dear Lady,” a fond smile quirked at the edge of Thor’s mouth, as he turned and left.

Tony waited for the Asgardian to enter the elevator once again before he spoke. “Ok, well that was badass. You just ordered a Norse god to take a shower...and he did!”

Natasha just shrugged and kept pulling down mugs.

“It was kinda cool,” Clint said as he got up and started helping her make the drinks.

“Though he did cave rather quickly...” Natasha said thoughtfully.

“He’s probably just tired and planned on doing it anyway,” Steve said.

Natasha nodded knowingly.

Tired--that was it. That was what was off with Thor. But what in the world could tire him out? Tony had seen him go days without rest and not even seem winded. He decided to voice his question.

“Probably princely stuff, I’d imagine,” Bruce really needed to be less sassy.

Tony rolled his eyes.

*****

All the drinks were ready and being served when the elevator dinged once again and out walked Thor, looking very...human. He was in sweat pants and a long sleeve tee, with his wet hair pulled back in a ponytail--though he had missed a few strands that fell around his face. All in all, Tony wasn’t sure he had ever seen Thor look so, well, normal--it was kinda weird. 

“Go ahead and sit down, Thor, we got the drinks,” Natasha’s words stopped Thor’s trajectory towards the kitchen.

“If you’re sure,”

“Yes Thor, we’re sure,” Natasha’s tone held amused exasperation; which was just as weird as Thor looking normal if anyone asked Tony. 

Thor slowly lowered himself onto the couch as if not quite sure of himself, and that right there was another sight Tony would be adding to his never seen before collection. 

Well he better apologize; it was now or never.

“What brings you here, Thor?” that wasn’t what he meant to say.

Two blue eyes locked with his, “I was under the impression that I was needed, but it seems I have come too late. I do not wish to intrude upon your hospitality, Stark, I will soon be returning.”

It seems Thor hadn’t seen his question as the simple small talk Tony had meant, and more as a demand of why he had come. Of course Tony couldn’t exactly blame the guy. It’s not like they had left things on the right foot the last time they spoke.

“Come on Thor, you just got here. Can’t you stay for a bit,” the Captain’s tone wasn’t quite pleading.

“Yeah, Point Break, you can’t be bailing on us so soon,” Tony was gonna make sure his intentions weren’t misinterpreted again.

“All right,” Thor leaned back on the couch, “I do believe I can stay a while.”

At that moment Natasha and Clint arrived with the drinks, and as usual, Tony wished they were of the stronger variety, but still, there was a comfort to be had in them. And not just for Tony it seemed, for after the first sip of what looked to be hot chocolate some of the tension leaked out of Thor, and he practically melted into the couch. Hot chocolate was now added to the list of things Thor liked. Speaking--or thinking--of what Thor liked…

“Thor what do you like?” Tony was nothing if not to the point.

“Like?” Thor was nonplussed.

“Yeah, like” 

Thor opened his mouth to speak.

“Actually, tell me what you don’t like,” Tony continued before the Asgardian could answer.

“What brings about these questions?” 

“Nothing really, just curious”.

Thor let out a small sigh, and moved forward to put his cup on the coffee table. As he stretched his hand out his sleeve pulled up, showing the beginning of three pale strips that seemed to run upwards, catching Tony’s attention. Scars.

“Woah Point Break, actually, answer this instead,” Tony pointed at his arm, “what are those.”

Thor looked down and with what seemed to be a look of embarrassment pulled his sleeve down, “oh it’s nothing really,”

Natasha was having none of it and reaching across Clint she snatched Thor’s wrist and pulled up his sleeve, “This is not nothing, Thor, they’re scars,” she paused, “On you.”

Thor was practically indestructible. Tony had seen him shrug off whole buildings falling on top of him. The thought of something being strong enough to hurt him--hurt him enough to leave scars--was kind of terrifying.

“What happened?” Steve’s voice was tinged with concern.

Thor gently extricated his wrist from Natasha, “I appreciate your concern, but really, it is nothing. It was my fault really.”

“Your fault?” Bruce said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes. I got careless in a recent battle, and this was the consequence,” he said it very nonchalantly, “The scars should be almost fully faded in a day or two.”

“How recent of a battle was it?” Clint asked

“Day before yesterday,” Thor said with a shrug.

“And what could have possibly done that?” Tony wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer.

“There are quite a few formidable foes to be had around, and they had very formidable claws.”

Well that answered...nothing.

“Thor, have you been...at war...this whole time?” Natasha drew her brows together.

“Whole time?”

“Since you last left us.” 

“It has just been a few of your midgardian weeks if I am not mistaken,” he said.

“It’s been almost a month, if we want to get technical,” Tony said.

Thor nodded his head, “Well I have been in battle, but I would not call it war.”

Tony sceptically looked at the sleeve that Thor was pulling down, “Right,” he said.

“Well whatever you call it, have you been fighting this whole time?” The Captain said as he moved toward the edge of his seat with a concerned look on his face.

Thor in turn looked at each Avenger in growing confusion, “Yes,” he said. Though his tone turned the one word into more of a question.

“Are you asking us,” Clint said with a raised eyebrow.

Thor shook his head and then when he began to speak it was slow and methodical, “Friends...I do not understand your sudden curiosity with my whereabouts...but I assure you, there is no need for concern.”

As he spoke Thor straightened himself, and the sweats and half-wet hair did not take away from his regality. Tony could not help the annoyance that began to rise inside of him at the change. Would a straight answer be too hard to give? What was so suspicious of friends asking after him? With effort he pushed those emotions down--he didn’t need them overwhelming him again. He had enough to apologize for as it stood.

“Thor,” Steve said, “the only concern we have is with your wellbeing.”

The god of thunder looked nonplussed. Tony rolled his eyes and then a thought popped into his head, and in holding to tradition, he let it out of his mouth.

“How old are you Thor?” he asked.

Tony didn’t think it was possible, but Thor became even more confused. Tony would have laughed if he didn’t think Thor would take it as an insult. 

“I do not see how my age has any bearing with our talk of battle?”

“That’s because it doesn't,” Tony said.

“Come on big guy! What are you like a hundred?” Clint said.

“No, I am about fifteen-hundred years old,” was Thor’s confused reply.

Clint nearly spit out his drink, and Tony found his eyebrows trying to merge with his hairline.

Thor looked at the surprised looks that surrounded him, “I do not see how this is relevant.”

“Hold up point break, you’re fifteen- _ hundred _ years old?” Tony said in incredulity.

“Around,” Thor said, “I am, as you say...rounding.”

Tony decided that he would unpack that particular nugget of knowledge at a later date, “So what? Does that make you middle aged or something?”

“Middle aged?”

“Uh that just means you’re around halfway through your expected life expectancy,” Bruce said.

“Oh, well then no, I am not middle aged,” Thor said.

“Ok...well in human terms, how old does that make you?” Tony asked.

“I do not understand...was I not speaking your language,” Thor said, “Forgive me, I was under the impression that the  _ Allspeak  _ was working.”

“Don’t worry, it is,” Steve said, “I think Tony was just asking if you knew what the human age equivalent of fifteen-hundred asgardian years is.”

“Oh…” Thor looked up, seeming to run calculations in his head, “I believe that It would be equivalent to your second decade.”

Clint actually did spit out his drink, “Your twenty years old!” He shouted more than asked.

Thor did a half shrug, “Around.”

Ok, this was...unexpected. “So you're telling me,” Tony began, “That you’re barely old enough to drink.

“Barely old enough to drink?” Thor boomed, “I’ll have you know Stark, I have been drinking since before the creation of your bloodline.”

“Well that seems like an exaggeration,” Tony mumbled.

Thor’s indignation gave way to confusion, “I still do not see how this is relevant? My age has no effect on my ability to battle.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “this has nothing to do with your ability to battle. We’re just trying to get to know you.”

Thor’s confusion did not lessen.

“Ok, here’s the deal,” Tony said, “In the last few months we’ve gotten to know eachother pretty well, but you’re off world more than you are on. So we are really just trying to get to know you.”

Thor relaxed, if only somewhat, “So, this is what you midgardians do to...get to know eachother?” 

“Yes,” Cap said with a smile. “We ask questions. It’s nothing deep. We just learn a little bit more about each other.”

“Ok…” Thor said, “So am I supposed to ask you your age?”

Tony chucked. “You could, but I promise you, none of our ages are as interesting as fifteen hundred years.”

“Or you could ask us our favorite food, or color,” Natasha said, “It's really about learning the little things.”

“The little things, huh?” Thor seemed pensive, but didn’t say anything else.

Tony looked at him, “Well?” he said.

“Well what?” Thor asked.

“Aren't you going to ask us stuff?” Clint asked.

“Is it not better to learn it in time? I find that shared experience is better to bond than simply telling,” Thor said, “I know that Hogan does not like red because it is the color of his comrades' blood. And Fandral loves blue because it was the color of the sky after a dark night not knowing whether he would live or die. The colors mean death and safety to them and yet I have never asked them, but still I know.”

“We learn those things too. The deep things,” Natasha said, “But sometimes a favorite color is just a favorite color.”

“We’d like to learn those things about you Thor,” Steve said, “If you’d stay with us for longer moments at a time.”

Thor looked pensive. “I still have things I must attend to, but when I am finished I can come stay for a longer while.”

“Good!” Tony said, “Now that that’s settled, how about some real drinks.” He looked around and noticed disapproving looks from the other Avengers. “Fine. Listen Point Break, I would like to apologize for last time…”

“It is of no matter,” Thor said before Tony could continue. “It was a hard night, but it is long past. Let us forget the things we’ve made bleed in past times and merely look forward to the bonds we have a chance to create.” 

“Well when you put it that way, hear hear,” said Tony as he raised his mug. 

The rest of the Avengers agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea behind this was originally supposed to be lighthearted. I had just pictured Clint and Tony teasing Thor about whether he was old enough to drink. And though I did get around to that happening, it's not all lighthearted, but sometimes the story has different ideas than the author. Let me know what you think!


End file.
